Candlelit Night

While most in Burrowgatory seemed content to let loose for the All Sinners' Day festivities, work still needed to be done amongst the merrymaking and vice spinning. At least, that would be the excuse a certain maligned workaholic would offer if one asked why he oh so refused to take the time off and pull himself away from his computer for long enough to have some Fun. Granted, part of it was he felt he couldn't afford to go out drinking, lest an even larger hole be burned into his already precarious pockets; As one drink turned to four, turned to, 'oh yeah sure I'm feeling lucky tonight', turned to even more accrued debt and a hangover that could split one's skull in twain. Again. And he already had enough to answer for at the casino so no Thank you.

And, frankly, considering his work as an accountant, the greed bun wasn't Entirely wrong- All Sinners' Day, coupled with tax season and the inevitable gift-giving of the winter months tended to be his largest draw when it came to balancing some poor sod's checkbook or working out potential financial decisions to help someone else crawl themselves out of a hole as if he weren't similarly camping out in the very same pit. So, though the lights and commotion to the festivities of the month were a temptation, it's one he chose to abstain from, curled over his desk tapping away at spreadsheets to get ahead of the curve while his competition no doubt were keeping themselves occupied with more lascivious or risky acts. Besides, if enough work got done maybe he could offer himself a Little indulgence, as a treat, a little potential carrot on a stick he mused idly, full well knowing that was unlikely to happen unless he was physically dragged out at this point. Or, likely some cosmic act beyond his control. Or something.

Stephen had long since lost track of exactly how long he sat crunching numbers. Cracking his neck, he was all too aware of the welling discomfort knotting itself in his lower back, though he was on a roll and elected to ignore the complaints his body continued to offer him. Not the only thing he turned a blind eye to, unawares to the telltale flickering of the lights in his apartment until everything immediately went dark. Groaning to himself, he looked back to the room that now only served to be illuminated by the soft blue backlight of his computer monitor, and after staring into the void for long enough to assess that the power wasn't about to magically flick itself back on, he dejectedly braced his palms against his desk and pushed against them to wheel his chair out enough to stand. Righting himself, he pressed his fists against his spine and leaned into the touch with a satisfying crack, shaking his arms to loosen up after hours coiled in front of his monitor.

Making his way to the sad little island he called his kitchenette, Stephen began haphazardly rummaging around for any sort of external light source, though to no avail. While he could theoretically sit there in the dark and continue to work, the weariness in his eyes had begun to set in so enough light to cut the screen fatigue was significantly appreciated. Bereft of a flashlight or any sort of hand torch, he considered just grinning and bearing it when it hit him- the holiday party. Renewed with a sense of direction, he crossed the threshold back into his hall, a bit easier to make out shapes due to the lights beyond his window still alight in full display almost as if to mock his apprehension. Well, guess it's just My building, he thought to himself with a grimace, just my luck.

Rummaging amongst the junk in his hall closet, he eventually and unceremoniously came across a foil bag, tissue paper still spilling out the top of it. Tearing the paper off the top to inspect its contents, Stephen managed to paw out four well sized candles of various scents. He wasn't exactly the type for candles, which is why this work gift seemed at the time vapid and unthoughtful enough to only receive a cordial 'thank you' as a response before being promptly ditched into the recesses of his closet for a rainy day. But, as it would be said rainy day had finally come to roost. So, thanks, I suppose, for the random gift exchange. Closing the closet door with a heel, baggie clutched in his hands, he moved to the jacket hook against his front door to rifle in the pockets of his vest.

Fishing out a lighter, and a half crumpled box of smokes that he popped back into his pocket, the greed bun paused for a moment as his eyes drew across an object basking in the glint of the outside merrymaking, jeering at him.

"I don't wanna fucking hear it, Kennedy." He snapped at the bass guitar that leaned against the wall as if its financier could hear him. But, the instrument having no life of its own, stood stalwart, Stephen rolling his eyes and bringing a cigarette to hang loosely against his lip and light it. Taking a long drag, he idles the cig between two fingers, taking his prize and crossing the distance back to his desk to Finally get back to work. Or, so he thought, reality setting in as he attempted to reopen his email for a quick correspondence.

Right. No power. Means no internet. Fuck.

Handles of the gift bag still looped over the fingers of his free hand, he felt the weight of the candles and jostled them a little, leaning back in his seat with a defeated exhale and closing his laptop with the flick of a wrist.

"Fine." He again asserted to no one, taking another long drag as he ruminated in the darkness, thumb coasting along the strings against his palm. Weary eyes can't help but wander outside, a longing self-imposed jealousy taking hold for long enough to consider. Maybe. Maybe he needed a break. Maybe, not That, but.

The tub's faucet bubbles to life with a gentle hiss, steam drifting from the pooling water and dancing against the ambient glimpses of outdoor light as if coaxing hands beckoning weary souls to rest. Finishing off his cigarette, Stephen puts the cherry out against the rising water, setting the candles against the back corners of the tub and lighting each one. The air is swiftly perfumed with the scents of peppermint and vanilla, comingling with a healthy dash of lavender bath salts he'd tossed in that alleged to help with relaxation that he'd likewise never bothered to use. Sloughing off his clothing, he sits against the rim of the tub and sets down his glasses, turning the faucet back off before allowing himself to dip into the water.

Watching the flames of the candles wick playfully against the surface of the water, he dips himself deeper, eyes lolling shut with a deep exhale. Truth betold, the greed bun couldn't remember the last time he had indulged in something so simple as a nice bath to relax. Could never find the time, he supposed, though he never really found the time for.. a lot of things. Letting his hair dip under, he pulls it out of his forehead, ends of his ears floating idly against the soothing waters. Almost perfect, all things considered, but it seemed like something was still missing. 

Eyes flicking back open, he dredges himself out of the water, shivering at the comparatively cool air nipping against his skin. Collecting himself in a towel, Stephen offers a swift pat dry, making his way back to his laptop. Though still bereft of power, she could still serve Some use before the battery reserves died out in a few hours; Enough time to be of use. Pulling the computer into his bathroom, he sets it against the sink, opening up his music library and coasting along until something in particular caught his eye. The room was soon filled with ambient, dulcet guitar tones, and satisfied with his choice Stephen made his way back to the still warm waters. Tying his hair up and grabbing another cigarette between his lips he dips back in, leaning an elbow against the rim of the tub. Lighting his cig with the nearest candle, he again allows himself to unwind.

Though his eyes are closed, the telltale sound of lights flickering back on in the room adjacent causes them to dart open. And, sure enough, the light from the room adjacent seeped from underneath the bathroom door. Though the water had long since lost its warmth, Stephen hadn't exactly been keeping track of how long he had been lounging. Maybe it was for the best he got back to work, he thought, for just a moment. But instead a hand reached the faucet handle, piping more hot water in to offset the dropping temperature with an eyeroll.

Just let me have this a little longer.